


Space

by kiki-eng (kiki_eng)



Category: Bandom, The Like
Genre: F/F, The Deep End Club, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiki_eng/pseuds/kiki-eng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's going to be the first time Z's ever seen The Deep End Club and Tennessee's maybe a little nervous about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Space

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheWrongKindOfPC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWrongKindOfPC/gifts).



> Thanks to ~~the usual suspects~~ starwire and sinesofinsanity for betaing, again.

Tennessee is cleaning her apartment before she has to go into the shop for the day. She's wearing yellow rubber gloves and scrubbing down all of the surfaces in her kitchen, because she loves her apartment and wants other people to fall in love with it, too.

When there’s a knock on her door she doesn’t bother taking off her gloves when she goes to open her door; it’s probably Alexa. (They don’t have plans until later that day, but it’s probably Alexa.)

"Are you cleaning?" Alexa asks when Tennessee lets her in.

"Last chance to do it," Tennessee says; she’s going to be busy all day until Z arrives.

"Are you nervous? You've known her since you were, what, sixteen? She's seen how you live. This place isn't even dirty." Alexa says, teasing her as she trails her towards the kitchen.

Tennessee wipes down a cupboard, busily. 

"You missed a spot," Alexa says.

"Where?" Tennessee asks. She looks at the cupboard critically for a moment before it clicks and she catches up to Alexa’s tone of voice. "Oh..." She turns around and sticks her tongue out at Alexa.

Alexa sticks her tongue back out at Tennessee and then smiles sunnily at her before reaching past her and taking a wine glass from the cupboard.

Tennessee sighs at her and keeps cleaning.

Alexa pours herself some water into the wine glass so that she can pretend she's living something out of _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ , probably, like Tennessee doesn't have a fully fleshed-out collection of glassware. She trails Tennessee around the apartment, talking at her about what her family's been up to. Tennessee's seventy-five percent listening, twenty-five percent trying to find any and all dust bunnies in her apartment so that no one can tease her about collecting those, too. 

She’s owned a lot of bunny things in her life - statues and stuffed animals and ears that she’s worn and t-shirts and that purse Mandy made... Bunnies have a way of making her light up and laugh, making her spontaneously happy and content, so they’re forever finding their way into her life - through gifts from friends and things that she finds, shopping around. They’re one of the themes that she surrounds herself with, part of the landscape of objects in her life - one of those things that she collects half on purpose and half not because they’re part of who she is.

Tennessee has a whole section of clothes that aren't hers hanging up in her wardrobe - not stuff that people have left behind at her apartment, but stuff that she's bought. There's a dress or two that she might wear, but they still wouldn't be hers.

Tennessee goes to thrift shops and she buys polka dot dresses and scarves and ribbons and skirts and jackets that look like they were taken from the closet of a Beatles fan in '64, that probably left one of their drawers 40 or 50 years later after being forgotten for years and years. And she sorts through racks looking at colours and textures and labels, looking for a find... and she'll go home with something sheer or mesh or a short skirt or a marinière style shirt - something that isn't really Tennessee' style, that Z should wear, that she'll give her the next time she sees her; she goes home and puts it in her closet with the rest of Z's things.

It's not just Z that she'll buy things for. Sometimes she sees something for Alexa - though Alexa is with her a lot of the time - and she'll just take it along with her when she meets up with her at the coffeeshop the next day. She found Matt a sweater for his birthday once. Sometimes she finds shoes or a purse or a pair of trousers that aren't hers, but need to be loved, and she'll find someone it can belong to.

It’s important, she thinks, that there’s love and happiness in people’s lives, that they have good people. With things it’s like cocooning, making this soft warm place - finding things that are right for you, too.

There’s a reason that Tennessee is forever drawing smiling hearts.

She’s pretty excited to be hosting a Valentine’s Day event at her store this year, with art and music, and a little- breathless in her heart (Z does, actually, sometimes leave her breathless.) to be seeing Z for the first time in a while.

It’s probably good, that it’s been so much time. Spending ten years in a band with someone, touring off and on, is a lot. It's a lot of time moving around and through life with one person.

When the band broke up she really did come to New York with a broken heart; missing the band - missing Z - hurt, a lot. Moving was good for moving on and discovering things and people to fill her life with. When she came here she felt empty, gutted, and she has found all of these people and places and objects and sounds - all kinds of things - that have filled up her life and turned it into something that she really loves.

Z tends to bend herself into all of the spaces that she can find, sometimes pretty literally - she is really into yoga and also has a tendency to kick off her shoes into the hidden places of a room. 

Tennessee's going over her dresser with a cloth when she finds this lovely rich rust-coloured velvet ribbon that she picked up for Alexa when she was in a thrift store a few weeks ago and somehow keeps forgetting to give her. It's something that she could wear herself, but would look so much better on Alexa that she'd really rather not, and watch her wear it instead.

"Oh, I found this lovely velvet ribbon for your hair," she says, interrupting Alexa saying something punny about a goldfish, she thinks - her focus might be something more like fifty-fifty split between Alexa and everything else.

"That's fabulous," Alexa says, "I know just what I'm going to wear it with first."

Tennessee thinks that she does, too - she's pretty familiar with Alexa and her clothes, especially after that long, long sorting session that they did a while back. Necessary, but grueling and a little bit heart-wrenching. There is only so much closet space. 

Alexa hangs around until Tennessee has to kick her out to go to the shop. Z's going to meet her there with her bags and then follow her home. It's going to be the first time Z's ever seen The Deep End Club and Tennessee's maybe a little nervous about that. They haven't been talking, now, as much as they used to, and Tennessee's- poured so much of herself into the store and it feels like home and this wonderful thing and she can see herself in it, the work she's put into it and the collection of art and artists that's contained in it and she is so very invested in it - she's thrown herself into it entirely and she is, in fact, worried that there will be bits that Z won't like. She knows that there are bits of her that Z doesn't like - she's spent enough time purposefully and unintentionally annoying her on tour to be able to state that with complete certainty - and it's going to be sort of terrible if one of the people she loves most in the world doesn't love this thing that she loves, that she's built. 

Tennessee feels like a fifteen-year-old with a notebook of particularly angsty poetry - vulnerable and a little rough around the edges. She puts on her brilliant customer service smile at the shop, though, and guides two adorable little college freshmen into buying a tote bag to go with their The Deep End Club buttons. 

She doesn't actually notice Z showing up, in spite of how tiny the shop is. She looks around after Jeff of the green mohawk leaves and Z's there, talking to Cali about prints, giggling.

Tennessee feels simultaneously fond - Z has always been a bit of a creeper, far too skilled at lurking and other creepy activities - and outraged because Z snuck in without saying anything.

"How long have you been sitting there?!"

Z smirks a little at her as she gets up and comes over to Tennessee's desk.

"I'm sorry," Tennessee says, crossing her arms as she sits, "What was that? You come into my city. You come into my shop and-"

Z drapes herself over Tennessee and her desk. She’s wearing a floral perfume that Tennesee sort of wants to eat, it smells so good.

"Hi," Z says, a big grin spread over her face.

"-you don't even says hello," Tennessee finishes.

"Hello," Z says, and then a beat later: "I've missed you."

Tennessee smiles and pulls back a little to get a good look at her. She's wearing that long black mesh and block shirt of hers, this adorable wide-brimmed hat and a rather silly coat; Tennessee loves it.

"I've missed you, too," she tells Z and then manages to pull her eyes from Z long enough to look past her to ask Cali, "How long has she been here?"

"Five minutes, probably."

"You were busy with a customer," Z says.

Tennessee is far, far too happy to see Z to keep up anything like a facade of crossness. 

"You're here," she says, wonderingly. "You need to look around at everything. I've got a half hour before close, so I need to get a few things done and a few things set up for tonight, but you should stay and look around, because you'll be working here tonight, so you won't get to, and there will be too many people in to really see all of it anyway.”

Z laughs at her, this rich, throaty thing that Tennessee has missed so much and she smiles at Tennessee and Tennessee has missed her so much. She knows how to work around Z; it’s been a long time since they first met and got so caught up in each other that they ended up burning cake. Tennessee knows how to work alongside Z and not get distracted by her being there, but right now her gaze keeps snagging on Z.

Tennessee keeps looking up to see Z smiling at a dress or turning something around in her hands and giggling and there are all of these things that she needs to be doing that just keep on being interrupted, that are taking so much longer to do, because Tennessee is so distracted by Z. 

Z waits as Tennessee finally locks up, shuffling about minutely in her heels like she's suppressing the steps of a ballet, and shifting her bag on her shoulder.

Tennessee fumbles with the lock, a little, and then again, letting Z into her apartment. She wonders if Z will believe that all of the locks in New York are finicky. 

"Holy shit, Tennessee," Z says, looking around at her apartment. "Is that a loft bed? That is totally a loft bed. Didn't you wear this flamingo for Halloween one year? You have to show me your closet. I need to know where all of the nooks and crannies in this apartment are because this is adorable. Is it like Gene Kelly's apartment in _An American in Paris_? Is there a pulley somewhere?"

Tennessee hadn't expected to be so glad she spent that time cleaning. "You like it?"

"It's exquisite," Z says, "It's so obvious that it's _you_ that lives here; I love it."

It's cliché, but Tennessee feels like something in her chest just unfurled, warm and happy.

Z's smiling that "I adore you" smile at her and Tennessee feels like she's falling into it, like, she could sink into this moment - this relief and just how much she loves that smile, loves Z, how happy she is to have Z in her space loving being there.

They did need to be apart. The band did need to fall apart. She needed to find out who she was outside of being Tennessee Thomas, drummer for The Like, her and Z's band, that Z wrote all the songs for. 

They're wonderful songs and Tennessee loves them, loved playing them, but she needed to accomplish something outside of the shadow of Z's musical vision. ...and she knows that Z needed to write songs that didn't have a drum part for Tennessee in them, too. She can't wait to hear them live tonight.

She feels like she and Z must spend a solid minute gazing soppily into each other's eyes before Z breaks the spell. 

"I do want to see what's in your closet. I did bring an outfit for tonight, but, you know..."

Tennessee does know. Sometimes someone has the perfect accessory to borrow and there's something about seeing all of someone's clothes together at once that's pretty fascinating.

"Oh, right," Tennessee says, remembering. "I've got a few things that I found for you, actually - on the left side."

She shows Z to her closet and leaves her to it and she goes downstairs to pour a couple of glasses of wine for them as they wait for the curry that they ordered before leaving the shop to show up.

Z gives her a funny look when she comes back with the wine. 

"The food will be here soon," she explains.

"I have like a quarter of your closet," Z says.

"No," says Tennessee peering past Z, "it's like- huh." 

"I go to a lot of thrift stores," she offers, after a moment.

"That's a lot of space," Z says, watching her.

It is a lot of space, is the thing, and Tennessee had sort of known it but not entirely realised it until just now. She goes into shops and finds things for Z sort of a lot, more than she does for other people. She's just there, and she misses Z and she sees her in a 60s miniskirt.

She flushes a little, because it sounds pretty damning, laid out like that. ...and it isn't like her apartment is huge - that is a lot of space in her closet taken up with clothes that belong to someone that doesn't even live here.

"It's like I live here," Z says, smiling. "I didn't even need to bring clothes."

She kisses the edge of Tennessee's mouth and Tennessee thinks _Oh my lord_.

Z pulls back and Tennessee stares at her. Z kisses people, but she doesn't kiss Tennessee. Z hooks up with people and she dates people and Tennessee does the same, but she and Tennessee have never- her doorbell rings with the curry and the moment's broken. 

Tennessee's a little quieter than usual over dinner, she knows. She's thinking about what Z said, that she could live here, and about moving to New York and being heartbroken and getting space from Z and, apparently, leaving space for Z, that there's space for her in her closet, her bed and her heart. If Z actually moved in they would probably need a bigger apartment. 

She is definitely getting ahead of herself, or, maybe not, because she knows Z, and Z knows her, and they're obviously both thinking about this. They've known each other for over a decade, and Tennessee knows now that there will be enough space for both of them, that they can circle each other’s orbits without losing themselves. She's pretty sure they'd work out.

"We're making Valentine's cards tonight," Tennessee says.

Z raises her eyebrows minutely.

"You should make me one, ask me to be your Valentine," Tennessee says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says. "I think I've got space for you in my life."

Z smiles, this sharp and ridiculous joy-filled expression, and Tennessee leans forwards to kiss it off her lips.


End file.
